


an act of looking

by windingwoods



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Multi, Survivor Guilt, polyamory in the making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windingwoods/pseuds/windingwoods
Summary: He doesn’t really mind doing this, or seeing him like this with someone. Reiji’s liked Yuri for as long as Jin’s known the two of them, and it’s a reminder of how things used to be in a way. One thing that hasn’t changed and doesn’t seem to have any intention of changing anytime soon.





	an act of looking

**Author's Note:**

> hear me out: reiji's got a type and it's the cagey and guilt-ridden ones. this is a true fact.

If asked, Jin wouldn’t say there’s ever been a point in time in which the Tamakoma HQ was ever a quiet place. Even as he weighed Fujin in his hands in the dark of his room, even as he made sure to have a busy schedule the day he knew Yuri would pack and leave so that he wouldn’t have to look at the frame of her back getting smaller and smaller, there was still noise all around him. Konami kicking and screaming her way through growing up, Yotaro with his snacks and his steed and his perceptive attitude far too sharp for such a pint-sized child, someone humming in the kitchen before dinner.

In fact, the only quiet place for years had been the roof, Jin’s favorite spot for when he needed to clear his head of a hundred too many different branching outcomes.

It hadn’t been great, leagues away from the Old Border, but it used to be just fine. Now though, with the new kids they’ve dragged in their mess, he’s reminded of how much _louder_ things were before the fallout. He looks at the pale tissue of Kido’s scar, then at Chika complimenting Yuma’s endeavors with riding a bike like it’s the most remarkable thing she’s seen in a long time, and he wonders.

“Was I getting desensitized?” he asks out loud one day. He makes a point of keeping his tone breezy, but he can hear Reiji put down the knife he was using to cut the scallions for tonight’s dinner.

“To what?” Reiji’s tone is faux casual as well and it’s so much less credible than Jin’s own it startles a brief huff of laughter out of him.

“To, uh…” He trails off, unsure. He and Reiji have serious conversations all the time, but they usually involve more strategy and less personal matters. “To whatever’s been souring our dear Yuri’s lovely face the rare times she comes to visit, I guess,” he settles for in the end. Bringing her up like this might be a little underhanded, but Jin’s style has never the most honest.

“I think,” says Reiji, turning towards him, “we were all trying to adjust. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Then he tilts his head, as if to ponder something. “It’s good that things have gotten livelier again, though. You think Yuri will like it better this way?”

The way his shoulders straighten unconsciously as he talks about her is endearing, but Jin’s hands still twitch where he’s resting them on his knees as he’s reminded of all the subtle shifts in Reiji’s body language whenever it’s just the two of them and he’s one misstep away from a future in which he grabs Jin’s elbow and brushes the tips of their noses together. Jin tries not to take any peeks at those, because it’s not his place to, but Reiji’s earnest everything makes it kind of hard, if not flat out impossible sometimes.

“Who knows?” Jin sing-songs as he gets up, taking some comfort in knowing Reiji won’t press him on the matter. He starts walking towards the stairs, but stops to grin over his shoulder in a way that’s bound to leave Reiji utterly unimpressed. “We might find out soon enough!”

 

*

 

“Here’s a freebie,” Jin says, craning his neck so that he can take a look at Reiji’s phone screen where he’s got a messaging app open. “You should send her a picture of those cute ducks you saw earlier. They’re nesting by the shore near our building, right? Yuri’ll love that.”

“She used to be one of the few of us excited about living this close to the river.” Reiji agrees easily, without missing a beat, and his thumb taps on the gallery icon at the bottom of his chat with Yuri. He scrolls back a bit until he finds the section of his camera roll that’s filled with different pictures of the same two ducks amassing twigs and foliage in the shade of the Tamakoma building and Jin can’t help but smile at how meticulous Reiji is about selecting the one that looks the best.

He doesn’t really mind doing this, or seeing him like this with someone. Reiji’s liked Yuri for as long as Jin’s known the two of them, and it’s a reminder of how things used to be in a way. One thing that hasn’t changed and doesn’t seem to have any intention of changing anytime soon.

A happy rapid fire of jingles signals Yuri’s enthusiastic reception of the ducks and Jin wills himself to relax all the way to the knotted mess of worries and sprawling timelines that never quite relinquishes its grip on him in full. Then, as if on cue, a spark of electricity crawls down his spine with the familiar feeling of someone leaping towards an outcome he had dismissed as unlikely.

“Say, Jin…” Reiji worries his lower lip, phone long pocketed, and he doesn’t even leave Jin the time to think of an out before he says, “you actually know a lot more than you let on, right? About me, I mean. The things I’d like to do.”

He doesn’t seem displeased or angry at the breach of privacy, but he’s got his eyebrows drawn together in the expression he reserves for when he’s worrying about the swarm of juniors he keeps taking under his wings.  

“Not just with Yuri,” he continues, oblivious to how fast the world’s spinning around Jin’s head. “With you, too.”

“I, uh.” Jin blinks. His side effect helpfully provides a slideshow of Reiji’s hands on his back, or Reiji’s stubble scratching his jaw, or Reiji sending him pictures of a cloud shaped like a rice cracker. They feel close, like he could hold out his hand and grab a future like that for himself if he so chose, and for once he’s glad for how having to play mind games with Kido has sharpened his poker face.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” Reiji says, slowly, and reality shifts once again. “I just wanted to, I don’t know, beat you to it? Even if you already know.” He runs a hand through his hair with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “At least I’ve got this satisfaction.”

His phone chimes again, this time with a reminder for his daily training with Chika, and he gives Jin one last look. “Gotta go, sorry. Promised the kid I’d treat her to some meat buns today.”

The words feel like lead on Jin’s tongue as he blurts out a “sure thing” out of reflex. By the time he feels like he’s gathered himself back together from the shock Reiji’s already gone.

 

*

 

The people gathered at a convenience store at a little past seven p.m. on a thursday evening all seem to lead quite uneventful lives, at least in comparison to Jin’s own. He’s not so far removed from normalcy that he wouldn’t consider as something eventful the emergency trip to the hospital a kid currently clamoring about super sentai-themed candy is going to make after breaking his arm the next day, but it’s all… things he as a Border agent doesn’t have the duty to fix, he muses. A broken arm can be treated by any competent doctor, a mass scale military attack not so much.

Still, as he passes by, he can’t help but whisper in a cospiratory tone, “careful not to slip.” He winks too, for good measure, and the child’s eyes go wide as saucers when he recognizes the emblem on Jin’s uniform. Something shifts and suddenly the trip to the hospital’s no longer there.

“Wow, you’re looking awfully pleased with yourself,” a voice from behind him says and Jin almost flinches. Instead, he chides himself for not having seen this one coming and plasters a lazy smile to his face before turning to face one whole Rindo Yuri.

“Hey there.” He waves at her with the hand that’s not holding the groceries basket, uncomfortably aware of how he must look right now. “You’re back.”

Yuri cocks an eyebrow at him, her mild expression as impenetrable as ever. “Why yes, we just came back. Did you forget to check the calendar, elite agent?”

Her voice is light, but Yuri’s always been too sharp for her own good, or for Jin’s good. It’s what makes a good operator, after all. So he squares up, still smiling, and pretends not to know what Yuri’s long figured out about him, how he’s been keeping his distance from her since Old Border ceased to exist.

“Oh, you know,” he says, “I’m just so busy, some minor slip-ups are bound to happen even to the best. Not that forgetting you were coming back could ever be considered a minor matter, of course.”

There’s a sale on peaches and he remembers how Four-eyes had liked them last time they had them at Tamakoma, so he sets the basket at his feet and grabs a plastic bag, starting to pick the ones that seem the most ripe. Yuri’s gaze stays fixed on his back for the whole time. Once he’s done, she picks the basket up for him, taking a step backwards in a way that makes the usual spark shoot down Jin’s back.

“Any particular reason you’re playing matchmaker between Reiji and me?” she asks, still so mild, and it makes Jin wonder if he’s this unnerving to deal with as well.

 _Ah,_ he thinks, _that was well played._

Taking in his options is a quick affair, that’s always been Jin’s forte before he even had developed his side effect, but it doesn’t make the feeling of being cornered any less unpleasant. He resists the urge to crack a joke and whip some rice crackers out of thin air, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. “So you knew about him?”

That gets a giggle out of her, but it’s a humorless one. “I’ve known for so long… It was kind of cute at first, then I just— I guess I’ve been hoping it’d pass.”

Jin’s vision goes crowded with futures in which he’s invited to their wedding, futures in which they rope him into babysitter duty for their kid; there’s one in which the kid is his, too. It’s nebulous and unraveling at the seams the way visions this far away in time are, but it’s enough to leave him winded.

“You…” He starts, swallows the lump in his throat. “You’ve been hoping it’d pass?”

This time the smile she gives him is wistful, more alike the ones she reserves for Yotaro when he’s not looking her way. “Did you know that back when we’d just started out, I thought it was my duty to look out for you?” She starts walking towards the frozen food aisle, and Jin hurries at her side. “I was just a kid, so I guess it must have been arrogant of me, but I was still one of the oldest. I thought… well, that doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

Jin’s lips feel sore when he presses them into a thin line. “It does, since it’s affecting your decisions.” He takes a deep breath, trying not to feel too much like a hypocrite as he says, “what happened was never your fault.”

This time, the look Yuri gives him is a fraction softer. “The pot calling the kettle black, huh.” She laughs, a little louder now, and Jin laughs with her.

“Alright, tell you what,” Yuri says, which makes Jin immediately feel like he’s activated some hidden trap. “I’ll go on a date with Reiji if you promise to do the same.”

“... If I _what_?” He scrambles, trying to get a hold of her, but Yuri’s already shoved the basket back in his arms with a grin nothing short of wicked.

“You heard me, errand boy,” she says, all sweet and lilting, and for the second time Jin knows he’s been had. Then, just like she came, she’s out of the store, waving a hand in his general direction without bothering to even turn.

“I’ve been tricked,” Jin states out loud, because there’s not much else to say.

 

*

 

Kyousuke’s voice echoes in his head as he makes his way to the usual place he and Reiji go to eat. _Some people just get ramen together, you know,_ the kid’d said and at first Jin had laughed him off, too busy with the incoming invasion to spare it half a thought, but now he can’t seem to shake it. It doesn’t help that when he’d asked Reiji to meet him there earlier in the morning all he got in response was a concerned frown.

“Is something going to happen?” had asked Reiji, making something deep inside of Jin twist. Still, he had managed to spit out, “not really. Just wanna grab a bite with you.”

Thinking back about Reiji’s flushed face is almost enough to make him want to turn back and book it, but Jin’s not going to be the one to chicken out of his unofficial challenge with Yuri. Also, as frightening as the whole situation is, there’s a hunger in his gut he’d never noticed before, back when he kept looking away from any possible vision of him and Reiji together. It’s getting harder to ignore with every step forward he takes, bubbling up his throat by the time he makes it to the restaurant.

Reiji’s already waiting for him at a table and Jin can’t help the stutter of his heart as he watches him nervously straighten his back, the way he does when Yuri’s concerned. He’s known about the way Reiji feels about him for a while by now, but for some reason he’d always assumed he wouldn’t be at the end of such open displays of admiration.

“Hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Jin says, taking a seat. He’s conscious of how forced his relaxed posture must look from the outside, but he manages a smile when he looks up at Reiji and he feels that it might be a genuine one. “Lost track of time while people-watching for a while.”

The wry grin he gets in response to that seems just as real. “Such is the life of an elite agent, I guess. Us commoners could never comprehend.”

“Hah!” Jin laughs, picking up his chopsticks and pointing them at Reiji the way he knows he disapproves of. “You’re an elite too, Mr. Captain of the strongest squad Border has to offer. Don’t think you can play humble with me.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Reiji responds, then his brain catches up with what he’s just said and Jin watches with horrified fondness as pink crawls up his cheeks. “I mean, that’s not—”

“You don’t have to take it back.” Pushing back his own terror, Jin taps the tip of his foot against Reiji’s ankle. He keeps it there, for good measure. “We’re… This is my answer. To what you told me the other day.”

“Oh,” Reiji says. There’s no way Jin’s not flushed himself by now with the look he’s giving him. “Oh, I see. Okay then.” His eyes soften as his gaze flickers from Jin’s own to his hands, then back up, and he looks so much more relaxed now it starts thawing the cold bite of Jin’s anxiety as well.

They flag down a waitress, the one who always jokes about kicking Jin out at the drop of a hat, and eat their food in comfortable silence, making idle chat from time to time. At some point Reiji’s foot nudges up Jin’s leg for a brief second, and when Jin looks up from his bowl of ramen he catches a glimpse of a smile so private it makes his head spin.

“Wanna walk the way home?” he asks after they’re done. There’s a nice breeze and he could stretch his legs a little bit, especially with how much restless energy’s still burning under his skin. Reiji hums in agreement and his knuckles graze Jin’s own as he falls into step with him. Jin allows himself to lean a little closer.

“I have no idea of what’s going on, which is pretty uncharacteristic for little old me,” he says.

After a beat of silence, Reiji huffs. “I think it’s plenty fair that you get to experience heart woes the same as the rest of us.” His tone is playful, but Jin can feel a quiver in his hand as he grabs the hem of his jacket. “Still… You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. I know Yuri said something to you, though I’ve got no clue what, but. Just know you can be honest with me.”

Jin’s never allowed himself to stare at Reiji too hard, is the thing. He’s kept up with his duty to monitor the futures of the people close to him, of course, but that’s always been an act of careful studying rather than looking. Now though, with Reiji’s warm fingers tangled in the fabric of his sleeve and the late afternoon light setting the scenery around them aglow, Jin thinks that maybe he can let himself get a bit self-indulgent. He takes in the broad shoulders, the sharp lines of the jaw, the affectionate expression turning into a grimace the longer the silence continues.

“That was too cheesy, wasn’t it. I knew it sounded too cheesy.”

Without thinking, Jin closes the distance between them. He rests one hand on the slope of Reiji’s collarbone, mystified by the fact that this is not just a hypothetical vision, that it’s actually happening for once. “It wasn’t too cheesy,” he rasps, then clears his throat. “And I’m here because I want to be, it just… took me a while to realize.”

Reiji’s other hand comes resting on the small of his back, tangible and real and calloused, and Jin’s dizzy but he still has the readiness to pull Reiji down until they’re eye to eye. “Too tall,” he whispers, laughter peppering his voice, and he’d like to think he doesn’t just let himself melt when Reiji kisses the grin off his mouth.

“Yuri’s lucky I like to share,” is all he manages to grumble when they part, and this time it’s Reiji who laughs into the crook of his neck.


End file.
